


Dust of ages

by Ruiniel



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castlevania - Freeform, Implied Slash, Inspired by Castlevania, M/M, Post-Castlevania (Cartoon) Season 2, Slash, castlevania season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruiniel/pseuds/Ruiniel
Summary: Inspired by the Castlevania animated series. Trevor Belmont and Alucard speak in the Belmont Hold. AU. Oneshot. Mature language. Mild Slash.---DISCLAIMER: This fan fiction is intended for personal, non-commercial use only. No copyright infringement is intended.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont, Trevor Belmont | Alucard/Trevor Belmont | Alucard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Dust of ages

Trevor looked to see Sypha disappearing among the many shelves of the Belmont Hold. There was much work to be done, now that they were here. His eyes then narrowed as his attention shifted on the blond head of hair, bent over one glass display shielding various skulls of monster ilk.

 _That's right, vampires among them. Get used to it._ This fucking character. Always so smug, so heroic and as pretty as a virgin in a nunnery. And then there was the lovely matter of his heritage, too.

Trevor Belmont trusted very few people, or better yet beings in the world, and the son of Dracula was very close to the bottom of the list, somewhere above night creatures and below pick pockets with self-inflicted deformities. This despite having fought together already, and despite knowing he would trust no one else, save for Sypha, in protecting his back when all seemed lost. But look at him, moving about with the grace of a stray cat on opium, so infuriating as he inspected his family's hoarded- ... his family's _dutifully_ _accumulated_ items. His face changing into the epitome of mild disgust. He was fucking unbelievable.

"Enjoying yourself?" the hunter approached a squinting Alucard, who was yet enraptured in the study of a glass case. Trevor considered straightening that annoyingly perfect face with a well placed punch.

"Hardly," the dhampir drawled, his gloved finger then feeling the dents in a weapon on another display. Golden eyes bore into blue as Alucard met his. "Is there something you want Belmont, or do you merely long for the pleasure of my company?"

Trevor rolled his eyes and grit his teeth, but instead of cursing and turning on his heel the hunter found himself leaning against a shelf, not too far from the son of Dracula.

"You never shut up. I'm tired," he said glumly. If the toothy beast could stomp all over _his_ nerves without remorse, then he ought to be obliged to listen, too. "Sick and tired," the hunter crossed his arms at his chest, closing his eyes. Then, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" Alucard asked, his long slender fingers now filing through a large yellowed manuscript. Trevor noticed some of his light gold hair fell over his face, and Alucard frowned in brief annoyance. He impatiently tucked the offending strand behind his ear.

 _A fucking dandelion,_ Trevor surmised. It was only when Alucard suddenly raised his head and met his eyes that Trevor Belmont realized he had been staring. _The last of the Belmonts_ _._ _Gaping at the vampire. Christ._ He looked away. "How can you be so fascinated about what you yourself called, and I quote, 'a monument dedicated to the extermination of your kind'?"

When golden eyes narrowed on him and that fanged mouth formed a grin Trevor felt compelled to slam it off his face.

"Are you baiting me, Belmont?" Alucard raised an elegant golden eyebrow.

Trevor shrugged innocently. "Don't be such a sop. I'm asking. I'm _really_ asking," the hunter offered in his most affected, careless tone. His blue gaze locked on golden orbs again. A sliver of something foreign trickled along his spine.

"I thought you were tired."

Trevor muttered inaudible nothings.

"It is quite impressive, I'll admit," Alucard surprised the hunter by answering his query. His face had become blank, but there was something cold and miserable about it. "All this is proof of the lengths humanity went to in order to protect itself."

Trevor closed his eyes in a frown. "Are you a philosopher now, too?"

"You asked," and Trevor thought the lifeless inflection of his words was closer.

The monster hunter opened his eyes to see Alucard crossing the space between them, and his limbs tensed as for battle. If anyone had told him that he, Trevor Belmont, would eventually be fighting alongside the son of Vlad Dracula Țepeș, they would have earned themselves an uppercut and something broken. But now...

 _God really does_ _hate me._

Alucard stopped before the hunter who yet leaned irreverently against the shelf, with his arms still crossed and with his gaze set on the floor.

Well, this was bothersome, Trevor thought. The tautness in him was spreading to his back and chest, and it was rather difficult to lift his head. When complete silence stretched for more than he could take the hunter lifted his gaze.

"What," he asked tightly, though his fingers twitched, wanting to reach, and to feel... what?

Alucard swallowed, or at least the hunter thought he had. His eyes went to the tome the dhampir held in his hand.

Trevor was uncertain as to what scared him more- the impending battle with the lord of vampires, or the fact that his fucking son was reaching close to his face. Despite having the Morningstar whip safely tucked at his belt, the hunter nearly jerked in a self-defensive burst when Alucard reached to replace the tome into the empty shelf space near Trevor's head. His hand lingered against the wood, and his eyes were set downward.

Trevor heard uneven, smothered breathing. He felt rather than saw the rise and fall of the other's shoulders. He did nothing when long, pale fingers feathered along his unruly hair before moving, barely ghosting the side of his jaw. Trevor tensed, drawn as tight as a bowstring. What the hell was happening-

As soon as the hunter felt it, the touch disappeared. Those same fingers curled into a fist, falling back to his side as Alucard opened his mouth to say something. But in the end he never did.

Trevor wanted him to fuck right off and leave him be. This was not...

He felt the touch of a cold forehead against his.

_For God's sake..._

"Alucard," Trevor managed, his voice cracking, his eyes closed as he tried to still the hammering behind his ribs. The back of his head hit the wooden shelf as he pulled sharply away.

"Yes," came the resigned word, his golden head lowered.

"Do that again, and I _will_ kill you." And the hunter pushed Alucard roughly aside, freeing his path as he staggered off. He felt sick. He felt elated, and uncomfortably, shamefully roused. He was not sure which of them he hated more in this given moment.

As the human stormed angrily away Alucard remained alone and still in his wake. He followed the hunter with his shaded gaze, until he was lost among the dust of ages.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a first short attempt at slash. That is all.


End file.
